


Los

by Menfinske



Category: Rammstein
Genre: Bondage, Humour, M/M, Nostalgia, Paul and Schneider are ride and die in my mind, Relationship in this case means friendship, Which was friends with benefits once upon a time, mentions of drug and alcohol use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-11
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2020-06-26 15:28:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19771114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Menfinske/pseuds/Menfinske
Summary: Paul is awoken in the night by Schneider's distress call.Arriving in his friend's hotel room, he discovers Schneider just wants to be cut Los (loose) (Yes, I do like my titles to be puns, thank you for noticing). which leads to a rather humorous situation, a trip down memory lane and both of them reveling in their friendship.





	Los

**Author's Note:**

> I may have mentioned this before, but I really do love Paul and Schneider's apparent friendship.  
> This isn't set in any particular era, but if one desires to think of it taking place in any single one, you could take the Europe stadium tour 2019, considering the main thing is that they can go down memory lane and get nostalgic.
> 
> //Edit: There is now a page where you can give Rammstein prompt ideas. Anyone can visit and give ideas and anyone can fill the prompts. So post them or browse them if you feel like it: https://rammfic.dreamwidth.org/288.html

Paul groans at the sudden intrusion of loud noise near his bed, awakening him from his almost-asleep state. He lifts his arm without lifting his head nor opening his eyes, patting the nightstand in a blind search for his phone. Finally feeling something vibrate under his fingertips, he picks it up and opens one eye in order to be able to accept the call, not checking who it is first.

“What?” he grumbles into the receiver, having to stifle a yawn as soon as he opens his mouth to do so.

“Paul?” he recognizes Schneider’s voice over the phone, though it sounds as if the other man is talking from distance and it sounds muffled as well. He grumbles something that is meant to be a confirmation of his identity without actually speaking so much and Schneider has known him and his moods after being woken up long enough that he actually identifies the grumble as such. “You’ve got the spare key to my room, right?”

“Couldn’t you be locked out earlier than,” Paul finally opens his eyes more fully to glance at the clock on his phone, “two fucking AM. What were you even doing out there anymore? I thought you were complaining about being tired earlier.”

“I’m not locked out,” Schneider says. “I’m- can you come to my room?” 

“If this is revenge for me keeping you up last week, I’m going to murder you,” Paul warns the drummer. They’d gone to a bar last week, trying to enjoy the relative anonymity they enjoyed in the part of Eastern-Europe they were at during that specific time. The fact that it was one of the only shows they hadn’t sold out during the tour enough of an indication of that fact. 

He hangs up the phone without listening for Schneider’s reply, pushing himself out of the bed and debating between just going in his bathrobe or being a bit more decent and pulling on a pair of sweats and a shirt. He settles on slightly more decent option merely because the hotel they are currently in did give a strong impression it had night-staff that wouldn’t be too entirely pleased with the hotel’s guests roaming around in their underwear. 

He snatches Schneider’s spare key off the table where he’d left it earlier before going out the door, briefly being amused about how the drummer would be the first one to need it in a long while. So much for Schneider always claiming that he and Oliver were the most responsible out of all of them. Paul doesn’t even remember the last time he’d needed a spare key, hadn’t even seen the need for Till’s stupid idea of each keeping a spare key of another bandmember just in case. 

Schneider’s room is one floor down from Paul’s room, but despite his earlier prediction there would be night staff present, he doesn’t run into anyone. Not that it’s entirely surprising, but Paul is glad for it. Just because he’d pulled on a shirt and a pair of sweats doesn’t exactly mean he’s dressed for running into anyone, with his eyes still half-shut and with his hair most likely sticking out at strange angles. He keeps his hair short enough that he’s not exactly prone to so called ‘bad hair-days’, but it’s been a while since he’s had it cut and it’s started to get long enough to look strange after rolling out of bed.

Having reached Schneider’s door he opens it up with his key while thumbing through his phone to return Schneider’s call. He’d expected the drummer to be outside, given that he apparently didn’t have his key, but he’s less than excited about waiting out in the hallway and risking seeing someone after all. He’s just leaned against the wall next to the door, holding the phone up to his ear when he hears both Schneider’s muffled voice as well as vibrations that have to be Schneider’s phone.

Turning around in surprise to face the rest of the room, Paul quite nearly drops his phone in shock. Then doubles over in laughter despite his earlier sour mood because of the sight that greets him. The sight of Schneider securely tied to his own bed, with an improvised gag in his mouth and completely naked. Spread out for all to see as soon as they’d bother to look up once inside the room.

“Schneider, what the fuck,” Paul laughs as he approaches the bed. “And here I thought you were all judgemental about Oli when he did it for Pussy. Were you just jealous? Did you want to be ‘Mr. Pain’ instead of Oli? Was being a rich and dirty CEO not good enough for you?”

“It’s not funny,” Schneider manages despite the gag. 

“And clearly whoever you were with wasn’t very experienced with it either. Should’ve shut you up better,” Paul says, reaching up to take the gag out of Schneider’s mouth, leaving it hanging around his throat. “Perhaps you should have asked Oli who his partner was? Surely she would’ve helped you.”

“It’s not funny Paul. I’m stuck. I don’t know where the damn keys to these things are,” Schneider says, moving his arms and rattling the cuffs in the process. Paul glances at them, then reaches up to feel them when they look rather real.

“These are damn solid steel,” Paul exclaims in surprise when they feel just as real as they looked.

“I know. I’ve been stuck here long enough that I’d have been loose by now if it’d been flimsy little things,” Schneider says, clearly annoyed. “You’ve got no idea how much effort it took me to get my phone to call you, because I had to activate the voice thing first by pressing the button twice. Without hands. Good luck accomplishing that.” 

“Clearly you did manage,” Paul points out. “So where are the keys?”

“That’s what I said, I don’t know! Please find them,” Schneider says. Paul sighs, glancing around the room. 

“You must have some idea where to start,” he says even as he gets up and checks underneath the bed first. Sounds like a handy enough place to keep them, considering the action is happening just above. 

“I’ve got no clue. The fucking gag functioned as a blindfold before she decided I couldn’t talk dirty well enough,” Schneider grumbles. Paul laughs about that, not having any trouble believing that Schneider’s dirty talk wasn’t exactly on point.

“Should’ve tried harder, Schny,” Paul gives Schneider a shit-eating grin which only serves to make the other man scowl at him. “Hey, don’t scowl at me. I definitely have the upper hand in this situation,” he can’t help but grin even broader at the thought. Schneider is naked and spread out before him, helpless to resist Paul’s taunts and teases at the moment. 

“Says the man whose shirt contains a stupid pink unicorn,” Schneider snorts. Alright, perhaps Schneider isn’t completely helpless. He could still retort, especially considering Paul indeed was wearing a stupid pink unicorn shirt. Richard had gifted it to him as a joke, but the fabric was soft and comfortable and he’d brought it as a pyjama while on tour, in case he got cold at night. There is an easy solution to that problem, however-

“At least I can still say anything,” Paul says, easily securing the gag around Schneider’s mouth again, making the drummer glare at him angrily. He curses and protests as well, but clearly he’d needed some effort to get the gag the way it’d been when Paul had come in, because now it barely produces any noise at all. “Ah, that’s much better.”

“U habe ve!” Paul can guess that it’s a muffled and, due to the tightness of the gag, mispronounced version of ‘I hate you’ but he happily ignores it as he continues to search for the keys. 

“You didn’t happen to see if they were those cheap little keys or regular keys, did you?” Paul asks when he’s searched the area directly underneath and surrounding the bed. Then, not receiving a response, he glances over to remind himself of Schneider wearing the gag. He raises an inquisitive eyebrow as he briefly lowers the gag.

“No, I didn’t,” Schneider replies.

“Shame. Would’ve made it easier. Might even have awarded your keen observational skills by releasing you from the gag,” Paul teases as he slides the gag back in place. Schneider doesn’t exactly look convinced that such a thing had been an option, but at least he doesn’t grumble or protest anything as the gag falls back into place. “Oh, you actually do seem to like it, don’t you? You’re a good boy who doesn’t even protest.” 

He turns around to start searching again. Paul doesn’t find the keys in any of the most likely places. They’re not on the table nearest to the door, they’re not near the couch, they’re not on the counter in the small kitchenette and they’re nowhere on the floor where they could’ve accidently fallen. He hears Schneider mumbling something when he’s looking in the drawers of his closet and turns around to slide the gag off.

“I think I heard her opening the cabinets in the kitchen, actually,” Schneider says. Paul slides the gag back in place, though Schneider hardly looks surprised or annoyed by it, which admittedly does take some of the humour out of it for Paul. Still, he’s known Schneider long enough that that is exactly the reason why the drummer hadn’t looked annoyed about it and he’s not about to let Schneider take his fun away. 

“Do you remember that we used to fool around with each other?” Paul calls out from the kitchen, opening the first of the three cabinets. The hotel had stocked it with some complementary small packages of snacks, various kinds of tea and coffee. “Back when we were still awkward and barely out of our teens and desperate for sex? Neither of us ever being confident to approach girls?” Paul continues as he finishes rummaging through the cabinet, not able to find the key in that specific one. 

“Vu vee ugvee.” Paul turns around and cocks his head in amusement. 

“Knowing you and trying to decipher that comment, I can only conclude you said it’s because I was too ugly? Is it really wise to insult the person who’s trying to help you, you think?” 

“Vo.” Schneider responds, looking exasperated. Paul smiles broadly, turning back and opening the second cabinet, this one filled with glasses and mugs. 

“Didn’t think so either,” Paul agrees. “Besides, you didn’t seem to think I was too ugly. You never did have a problem with us doing all kinds of things to each other. Could’ve asked me to tie a blindfold around your head back then, too, you know.” 

“Vhut ub an sjearch.” 

“I am searching. Unlike you I can do two things at once,” Paul grins without looking around. “I certainly always could rile you up enough. I mean, sure, it helped we were both pumped up with hormones considering we were young and our libido quite different from our actual frequency of sex but, wiggling my naked tushy around for you always proved to rile you up,” Paul laughs, dropping his sweats just for fun. He hadn’t been wearing underwear in the first place, sleeping naked whenever the temperature and the privacy allowed it. 

“Then again, your cock had probably seen the inside of my ass more often than any kind of pussy back in those days,” Paul continues his stroll down memory lane with a fond smile on his face. Neither of them had ever tried to make it prettier than it was. And what it was had always been very simple. Two young men living in a town that cast them as the weird outsiders and turned them away while their libidos were raging. Two young men who decided to help each other instead, because they were going crazy from lack of sex. Finally locating the key in the third and last cabinet (this one filled with plates and little pots and pans) he turns around to hold it up, proudly, surprised when Schneider’s erection stands obvious between them.

“Mh. Guess I’m not the only nostalgic one. Homesick, little guy?” Paul jokes as he walks over to Schneider, who grumbles something Paul can’t make out but doesn’t sound friendly. “Taking offense to me calling your cock little, Schneider? Just as insecure as back then? Considering the dildo box set we made, you should know you’re not exactly below average,” Paul winks at him. Then slides the gag down when Schneider mumbles something more.

“Just- undo my cuffs,” Schneider demands, sounding exasperated. Paul jumps up on the bed, straddling Schneider’s thighs and leaning forward, mindful not to bend Schneider’s erection between their torsos but not paying it any kind of other attention either. 

“You’re not exactly in a position to make demands, Christoph. Perhaps you should be taught a lesson in patience. Perhaps we should revisit the days your dick is obviously nostalgic for.” 

“We’re not teenagers anymore, Paul,” Schneider protests. 

“Well, in all fairness, we didn’t exactly begin doing that while we were proper teenagers. Both of us were convinced we’d grow over our awkwardness soon enough,” Paul points out. Growing out of their awkwardness had happened eventually, but a lot later than either of them had hoped. Paul remembers they’d been incredibly drunk the first time they’d fooled around with each other, 19 years old and sick and tired of not having had any sex in months, Paul not even able to get an erection due to the amounts of alcohol he’d consumed and Schneider’s erection quite pitiful compared to what Paul later learned was the normal status of his erection. The second time they’d been nearly as drunk, though this time both conscious enough to get somewhat decent erections. In fact, Paul remembers the first dozen times had been initiated by both of them having drank a lot and lowering their inhibitions. 

It’d become somewhat less awkward drunk fumbling after that and more of an unspoken deal between them. They’d go out, try to score girls and, if both of them returned unsuccessful, fell into bed with each other without so much as a word. It’d been simpler days. Sure, they’d had their problems in the day as well, but their friendship had always been simple like that. 

“Earth to Paul, do you copy? I repeat Earth to Paul, do you copy?” Paul shakes the memories from his head, focusing on the present. 

“Mh. Sorry, got lost. Took the wrong left turn on memory lane,” Paul admits with a grin. Schneider considers him for a moment. Then smiles fondly as well. 

“Those were good times we had, despite how frustrated we were about our inability to score with the girls,” Schneider admits. Paul laughs.

“I know. I was always so convinced they’d come running once I was in a band. Who doesn’t like the artistic and musical guy?” 

“Try growing up playing the trumpet and I’ll tell you plenty of people who don’t believe that myth,” Schneider retorts. “And considering you’re mostly invisible behind the drums.”

“You’re not invisible, Schny. Could never be,” Paul says, grinning but definitely meaning his words, leaning down to peck his friend’s cheek. “I’ll uncuff you,” Paul says finally, reaching up and undoing the cuffs. Schneider rubs at his wrists as soon as Paul has released both of them from their confines, then undoes Schneider’s ankles, rubbing life into those just the same as Schneider is doing to his own wrists. 

“Thanks,” Schneider says, though Paul knows it’s not just about his undoing the cuffs. He gives the drummer a smile, then finds himself surprised when Schneider lunges for him, wrapping the guitarist up in a hug. “Sleep here tonight?” 

“Mh. Put on some underwear and I will. Much as I like memory lane, it’s sometimes better to keep things in the past,” Paul laughs. Schneider happily agrees, getting up briefly to pull on some underwear, tossing a clean pair of his towards Paul as well, who pulls them on after getting naked. He crawls into Schneider’s bed, soon joined by the drummer and both of them falling asleep peacefully.


End file.
